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It was dark. The cobblestone streets were quiet, save for the occasional patter of small nocturnal Pokémon. In the houses crowded up against each other, most people were asleep. Many of their dreams were troubled, reflecting their lives. There was an unpopular King in control who kept the people under him poor. In shades of this, the people dreamed of not having enough, or of problems they had that could be solved with money if they had it. It really made the night air dreary. There was a crescent moon in the sky.

In the dim moonlight, she appeared. She was out of place here, a bright and beautiful Pokémon in a dull and mundane town. She had aurora instead of wings and a tail, arching out from her body in every color that one could dream of. Around her, things were gray, brown, and dirty. It made Cresselia sad to see the humans like this, but there were rules about interference.

A small racket came up in the alleyways as a pair of Murkrow argued over who owned a copper coin. Pokémon had it rough here too, crowded in because they wanted to be with a particular person. In fact, she had come here to see a particular person. Cresselia knew she couldn’t change much unless she knew the right person. But, if she went to befriend the ‘right person’, there would be a good chance she’d be captured as a rare Pokémon. Many humans who got to be in charge did so because they were willing to manipulate better people.

She headed to a single spot of candlelight in view, a small flame that came through a small window. Being a creature of dreams, she passed right through the walls into the room. There was a woman in a wooden rocking chair, putting her baby back in its cradle to sleep. There was also a man in the room, but he was asleep despite the light. And with her power around, he’d stay asleep.

“Hello again,” Cresselia said, shifting her aurora so that it wouldn’t be overwhelmingly bright.

“Hello again,” the woman said, smiling some. “I was wondering if I would see you again.”

“I come on the same night every year,” she replied, drifting closer to the cradle. She bent her head down and checked on the infant. The little girl hadn’t been alive for a full moon cycle yet. And her dreams, like most infants, were simple things.

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s the same night by the lunar calendar.” She lifted her head back up. “She dreams of being in your arms, listening to your heartbeat.”

That made her happy. “I would think so. I’ve been keeping her close, like my mother said to.”

And now for the same conversation they’d had the past several years. “Have you decided on what you would wish from me?”

“I don’t need anything,” she said, as always. “The priest says it’s a waste to wish for that which you haven’t worked for and I’m striving to be a good person.”

That kind of attitude was as frustrating as those who would try to wish for everything, Cresselia thought. “It is not wrong to want a little something for yourself. It is only when the wants consume your thoughts that it becomes greed.”

“But just that small step puts you on the road to ruin and can turn your eternal judgment into that of hell. That is the teaching of Arceus.” She was deeply pious to the point of stubbornness, wouldn’t see any other way to things.

While Cresselia didn’t have any objections to religion (although coming across her own worshippers tended to embarrass her; she was pretty minor in the scheme of things), it was another thing that she saw having too much or too little of could lead to trouble. Especially when it got in the way of her own morals. She thought about arguing that she didn’t think Arceus would want that. It was more likely another way the King kept himself in power and wealth. But, she’d never met the creator Pokémon herself, so she couldn’t really say what Arceus’ teachings would be.

Back when this woman was a girl, she had helped Cresselia while the Pokémon was in disguise as an old woman. It was a wish exchange that she liked very much, as it tended to bring blessings to those who deserved it. Not being able to grant that wish felt like a failing on her part.

Maybe she should try coming at this from that angle. “I promised you a single wish, and it’s a debt that I would like to repay,” she said. “I’ll keep coming every year until I can.”

“I said it’s all right,” the woman said. “I have nothing that I want and I’m grateful that I’ve been able to see you for yourself.”

Some of the more pompous ones would accept that, but that wasn’t her way. But there was a glimmer of something. “You don’t speak the truth when you say that you have nothing you want.”

The woman was quiet for a minute, looking at her child. “Well if it’s something you must do,” she said, finally giving in, “could you make sure that my daughter keeps pleasant dreams throughout her life? Life’s a harsh thing and too many folks turn to despair, or to sin to ignore it all. But if she had good dreams, she might be able to stay naturally cheerful and do good just by being herself.”

At the start of this, she might have tried to get her to wish for something for herself, not another. But it was for her child, and she’d refused for so long. “I can do that for you both,” Cresselia said. She’d need something for that.

Brushing along her sides with her beak, she found a feather that was loose. If left to its own, it would dim over time. She took it, but cast several enchantments over it. It would stay beautiful as long as its owner was alive, and it would have enough of her power to keep nightmares at bay. One other enchantment, and it was good. Cresselia gently placed it so that the baby gripped it in her fingers.

“That will keep her dreams good,” she explained.

“Seems like something someone would steal,” the woman said. Too much of her life had been hard for her to take anything on faith. That is, anything but what the priest told her.

Cresselia shook her head. “No, I made sure that it would always return to her, every night. This will probably be the last time we see each other. I wish you both well.”

Then she moved back to the dream lands. While that woman may have been kind, she was too pessimistic for Cresselia’s liking. Perhaps her daughter would be better.

…

HG/SS entry: Those who sleep holding Cresselia’s feather are assured of joyful dreams. It is said to represent the crescent moon.

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

After wrestling with this story for a week now... I think it's okay and could be better, but the long version of it I came up with actually fits better into ClicheStorm, because it worked better for N's Sigilyph then what I originally had. This has been bugging me to the point of writer's block elsewhere, so I'm posting it anyhow to at least get something done.

The desert sands blew across empty land, turning the air gritty and brown. There were a few stones, statues, and one old tower standing, but otherwise there was nothing here. On a clearer day, one could look around and see nothing but sand. It rose and dipped in strangely regular rectangular patterns, but none had yet dared to dig there and find out why. Most people saw nothing of importance.

Most people were not like the Sigilyph.

Floating through the air, one moved along the central line of Desert Resort slowly. His blue-tipped wings moved slowly; he kept itself aloft with his Psychic powers, but directed himself with his wings. The black limb that held onto his eye swiveled around, checking out his surroundings. Every day of his life, he always flew this same route at the same time of day. His mother had taught it to him, and he would eventually teach it to his successor.

When he looked around, he saw things. Ancient things which were no longer around, but their images lasted in the inherited memories of the Sigilyph. He saw stone streets filled with human and Pokémon, all working under the Great King. Although old languages crowded the air, he wouldn’t let any of it distract him. He sensed through the stone buildings to see others cleaning, weaving, crafting, cooking, whatever work needed to be done.

He also saw merchants under colorful tents, hawking their wares and bartering with customers. Although he saw them, the Sigilyph didn’t check them out. He saw them in memory, but not in reality. If they were in reality, then he would be accompanied by another of his kin, who checked out the goods to make sure that none were dangerous. Sometimes he had to check on a Trainer for the same purpose, but he made sure he could fly away before they could challenge him.

Then something changed around him. The Sigilyph stirred his small black wings, using them to sense things more accurately. In his visions of ancient times, he saw some people starting to look up at him. They had eyes with no whites, only blacks. Their aura was one of restlessness, an ache for the loss of life and the maddened desire to take it from others. And those souls were starting to manifest in reality.

He stopped in the air, counting how many there were. Fifty lost souls, all across the city. As they retained a memory of gravity, he would be safe above them. But anyone else in the Desert Resort was in danger. The Sigilyph sent a high pitched wail into the air, soon accompanied by other patrollers. It was a warning and a call for assistance.

In response, other Pokémon began to flee in alarm. Wild ones sought caves to hide in, while captured ones did their best to convince their Trainers to get out of the desert. And the various raised sections of sand began to shift. It had been many years, since before his mother’s lifetime and maybe even before then, that something like this had happened. Yet the Golurk were still there, waiting for the time they were needed.

The Sigilyph flew on, finding the yellow glow of the nearest one to him. The clay giant was standing up now, not heeding the sands that were cascading off its body. Through various calls, he heard his kin trying to call the stronger wild Pokémon back out; their powers would help in defense of the city. Never mind that the city itself was already destroyed. It was the purpose, the soul and drive of the Sigilyph, to defend it.

And the Golurk that were here were of the same mind. He spoke with it, using terms he had never used before. Wraiths, the restless and wretched souls that remained, were coming out to attack the living. As Pokémon at least still lived here, they had to fight back. The Sigilypth wasn’t sure why they were coming now, but the wraiths had to be dealt with.

Tightening its oversized fists, the Golurk looked around the landscape. When it saw that the wraiths had yet to fully cross over, the blue golem began to explain. The city had been destroyed by something they could not fight against, disease and the building sands. The spirits of many victims remained, eventually turning into the ravenous wraiths which stole life, turned others to be like them, but never became satisfied.

As their orders remained, even after many centuries, the Golurk would still fight to protect those that lived here. The Sigilyph agreed. They were all still bound by honor to the ghost city underneath the sands.

…

Sigilyph Black entry: They never vary the routes they fly, because their memories of guarding an ancient city remain steadfast.

White entry: It is said that Golurk were ordered to protect people and Pokémon by the ancient people who made them.

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

Finally! I've been waiting forever for you to update! I know this was a hard one, Sigilyph and Golurk. But you did a great job. I like the idea, about ancient Pokemon rising up against the wraiths. I liked this one.

I see this story as a little old-style cartoon. And just a bit of trivia, FF.net notes that this now has 226 stories and is once again my top word count fic. Yes, I have another work on there that has 375,000 words or so, and this one now tops 376,000 words.

For a creature that was four inches high, the hallway of an ordinary home was enormous. The walls towered overhead; shoes made for major obstacles. She could climb up the walls, but it was such a long distance any way she went. Up on the shelves, there were human figurines that were bigger than her. But when the real humans came back in, their hands were bigger than her.

The Joltik looked up at the door, a massive piece of wood. That was the way outside. However, there was no room for her to squeeze underneath it, and the wood was coated in some kind of chemical that didn’t smell tasty. She’d come in riding a larger Pokémon, but no one was in the house right now. how was she to escape this place?

She turned from the door and began looking through the house again. Escaping wasn’t her only problem. She was running low on electrical energy. Normally, she picked up static while hanging onto larger Pokémon. But the one who lived here kept fighting her, causing her to expend her energy. Neither of them had an upper hand in the battles, as she could scurry under things and it could step on her if she did reveal herself. The humans usually got after it, so the fights never lasted long. Still, she worried about what would happen if she lost and was discovered by them.

Sensing around, she came to the living room and paused. There was a weird surface in there, so she has yet to go there. It looked like some kind of fiber material, bits of green and blue blended together. As she didn’t know what exactly it was, she wasn’t sure if it was safe. But that was the only room she hadn’t checked out. Would there be a way out there?

Deciding to try, the Joltik went into the room and carefully stepped onto the carpet. It was a softer surface, but still firm. Once she got used to it, it seemed all right, so she scurried across the room. She went under the couch and several chairs, to see if there were holes along the wall. There weren’t any. So she climbed up the wall and investigated the windows. From up there, she could see the fields outside where she lived. But she couldn’t get through the glass. And even if the windows were open, there was a screen that blocked her. She might possibly be able to chew through it. If she had access to the screen, which she didn’t.

No luck. Feeling disappointed, she dropped back to the floor. The larger Pokémon did have a bed that it slept on. Maybe she could hide there and attack herself to it again. It might take some time, but if that’s what it took, she could wait quietly.

Before she entered the hall again, she noticed something. There was electricity flowing nearby. She had ignored it earlier, as it wasn’t strong and she’d been focused on finding a way out. But it was there and it might give her a boost for any fights that may come up. Changing directions, the Joltik went to the wall and discovered a lump in the carpet. The electricity was somewhere underneath there. She followed it until she got to the wall, where a cord came out of the carpet and plugged into the wall.

She checked over the cord with her feelers. Plastic. That never tasted nice, but it would give her access to the voltage. Wanting to find a weak spot so she didn’t have to taste so much plastic, she climbed up the cord, feeling it along the way. It came up to an outlet box, which had several cords attached to it, but one open slot. She could sense electricity there, still and unmoving. Perhaps she could take some from there. The Joltik reached a leg into two of the holes.

Immediately, she was shocked with the biggest jolt of electricity that she had ever experienced. Never mind trying to store some of it for use; she was frantic for a moment that it was going to kill her. She fell onto the carpet, feeling like puffs of smoke should be coming off her body. That was nothing like the electricity she and her kin used for attacks.

There was a click from the door. The humans were back! She thought of hiding… no. This was the perfect chance to try and escape. Although she felt awful, she twitched and flipped herself upright, then hurried to the door.

Then there was barking. The house Pokémon came bounding in, all excited for some reason. It spotted her, growled, then came running.

Oh no, it was blocking her way to the door! The Joltik shot an electrified web at him; some of the charge from the outlet stayed with her, letting her do so. The larger Pokémon shouted at that, nearly trampling her as she hustled to get by. Once she past him, the door was wide open in front of her.

One of the humans said something from another room, coming back to the hall. Joltik pushed herself to run as fast as she could, even if it hurt. If she didn’t get out now, she might not get another chance in a long time.

Overhead, the human was reaching for the door, but stopped on seeing her. She begged him in her mind not to close the door… and it worked! She jumped down onto the porch, then hurried across the concrete to the grass. The larger Pokémon barked again and started to run, but the human called to it and made it stop. She was free!

Heading back to her field, she was grateful for it. She never wanted to be indoors again.

…

Black entry: Joltik that live in cities have learned a technique for sucking electricity from outlets in homes.

Last edited by Ysavvryl; 15th August 2011 at 12:39 AM.

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

Sometimes, the entries only give vague ideas. And sometimes I read them and think, 'Hey, I don't think I've ever done this kind of scene before'. This is one of the latter. I'm not sure if Looker is in character, but eh... I only know him in Black.

It was all coming together nicely. Nearly everything was figured out: how the thief had gotten the Peerless Emerald Necklace, who the thief was, why the crime was committed. All that was left was finding the crook and the necklace. But that shouldn’t be much trouble. His flawless deduction skills were already reexamining clues and narrowing down the possibilities. It wouldn’t be much longer before he would close the case, as he was Looker, the greatest detective in the world.

Walking on the path that went alongside a railroad, Looker was going to meet with a possible witness. There was a crossroad ahead, where he needed to cross the tracks to get to the person’s house. At the crossing, there was a large brown Pokémon standing in the middle of the route, idling there and chewing cud. It had large long horns, but even larger than those was its hair. Jutting out in a large curly ball, it seemed like an inadvisable hair style for a four legged creature. But that was natural on a Bouffalant.

“Good afternoon, Pokémon,” Looker said, nodding to the creature. He then started off down the road he needed.

However, the Bouffalant snorted, stomping its hoof down.

Looker held his hands up. “Pardon me; I will not be in your territory long if that is what…”

The Bouffalant then gently pushed him with its hair. For a ‘gentle’ push, it knocked Looker flat on his back. The Pokémon then pawed at the ground.

“What, you have muscles in that hair?” Looker asked, starting to get back up. “I’m not…” the Pokémon started for him again, so he quickly grabbed something from his bag. “Okay, here, take this. Will that do?’

Across the dusty route, the deep red apple rolled up to the Pokémon. The Bouffalant sniffed it, then ate it in two bites. It then walked off, satisfied. With that handled, Looker got up and headed off on his way. One had to know how to handle any Pokémon on this kind of job, he thought. Because one never knew what would happen on the road.

As he stepped onto the tracks, someone came running along the route. Looker saw the man and recognized him. It was the thief! Apprehending him now would cut out several steps towards fully solving this case. True, he wasn’t too happy with the serendipity of the situation, but he knew to take advantage of these windfalls.

He rushed and tackled the thief. “Halt, in the name of the International Police!” he said. “You are hereby under arrest for the theft of the Peerless Emerald Necklace!”

Later, he could never explain the situation satisfactorily to others, not without making himself look bad. But ten minutes after he had tried to arrest the thief, Looker found himself lying on the railroad tracks he had been trying to cross. Thick ropes held him in a bind so that he could not move, even though his head was on one metal rail and his feet were on the other. And there was a vibration coming through the metal.

Still, the thief waited in order to hear the train whistle in the distance. He was the sort of man who looked so comically villainous that one could not take him seriously: pale skin, long dirty hands, greasy black hair, a long and thin black mustache that curled at the ends, and a black top hat. But perhaps the look was a part of his diabolical genius, as he was well known to the International Police for such audacious thefts.

“Well well now, dear Looker,” the man said, grinning after the whistle. “You finally catch up to me, but I am the one who catches you in the end.”

“Justice will not fail,” he said, still having total faith in the system despite his current situation.

“But you won’t be around much longer to see any justice. Now before you die, I think you’d want to know that I did steal the Peerless Emerald Necklace.” He twisted one end of his mustache around, looking proud of himself. “And you may as well know, you were right about the Glory of Kyogre as well.”

“What?” Looker asked, angered. The theft of that priceless painting had been one of his earliest cases, but the courts had failed to get a conviction. That loss had driven him to perfect himself into the best detective ever, one who could finally put a stop to this thief, his nemesis.

He just looked smug. “And the Tome of Alph, and the…” and suddenly he was no longer in view. There was just a thump of him hitting the ground.

And in his place, there was the Bouffalant. The Pokémon grunted.

“You must be an aide of Justice,” Looker said. “That is good, but I don’t suppose you can do anything about this train that’s going to hit me?” He thought the Pokémon might be able to rip the ropes with its horns. The rails were throbbing and he could hear the wheels through the metal.

The Bouffalant looked in the direction the train was coming from… and ran.

Sighing, Looker closed his eyes. He supposed it wasn’t fair for him to expect a wild Pokémon to do much about an on-coming train. He knew that his job was dangerous. And yet, he’d never guessed that he would die while tied to a set of railroad tracks.

There was a colossal smashing sound down the tracks, followed by a terrible clamor of speeding metal slamming into the ground. When that sound died off, Looker noticed that the tracks were no longer vibrating. And, he was alive. Still tied down, but alive.

Sometime later, emergency crews arrived at the location. The local police found him and untied him. Through his instructions, they took the thief into custody, making a search of his person to see if he had any stolen goods on him. Once he was upright, Looker could see what had happened. the train that had been heading his way had derailed messily, leaving a disaster area over a mile long in its wake.

“We think it was one of the Bouffalant again,” the officer talking to him said. “Thankfully it wasn’t a passenger train, but we’ve told the railroad company to move this line or protect it better. Those Pokémon can be a nuisance.”

“I see.” Seeing something approaching him, Looker turned and saw a Bouffalant, probably the one from earlier, trotting their way. It didn’t look like it had taken any damage from attacking the train. “Was it you then? You may have saved my life, but in causing a train wreck, I can’t thank you for that. No apple for you this time.”

Snorting, the Bouffalant stomped its hoof down. After a momentary glaring contest, the Pokémon turned and headed off.

“I didn’t think it would actually try to stop the train,” Looker told the officer. “I was hoping it could free me from the tracks somehow.”

“Does it belong to you?” the officer asked.

He shook his head. “No, it’s just a wild…”

And the Bouffalant charged at Looker, head butting him so hard that he flew up and away until he was nothing more than a twinkle in the sky.

…

Bouffalant White entry: They charge wildly and headbutt everything. Their headbutts have enough destructive force to derail a train.

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

Looks like I missed the Joltik one. It was a rather cute story. I like Joltik's adorableness. But the Bouffalant was was great! It seemed like something out of an old cartoon, which, I guess, was the point. I loved how Bouffalant kept headbutting everything, including Looker. Ha!

The young Psyduck was curled up in his nest, shivering. He was still sleeping, but when his mother ran her paw along his head, he was no longer warm with fever. For the past few days, he had been terribly ill. There were times when the Golduck thought she’d lost this child. He was weak, so he was still in danger. But she already felt more hopeful because the worst of it seemed to be gone.

He probably wasn’t happy, she thought. Not only after being sick, but also because of all the chalky roots and bitter leaves she had fed him. Those things would have healed him, as she knew from what her mother had told her, but they were so awful that no Pokémon seemed to like them. Being unhappy due to bitter medicine was probably the least of his troubles now. Still, if there was something she could do to make things a little better for him…

On thinking over what was around her den, the Golduck recalled something that should be safe to give him. It would be a little troublesome to get. But after all the medicine, he should be happy to have a little treat. And it wouldn’t take her far.

Since he was sleeping hard, she put the blanket back over him, then left the small cave home they lived in. The Golduck stopped at the shore, looking to her right. The red jewel on her forehead glowed; at the same time, a slight red glow appeared under a large rock. Using telekinesis, she shifted the rock to block off access to her den. That would keep her son safe.

The Golduck then plucked a large leaf off a nearby tree. That would do. With that in paw, she dove into the cool waters of the lake.

-+-

Golden rays of sunlight covered the forest. They grew deeper and darker in color as the sun descended on the western horizon. On the surface of the lake, a group of Surskit were still at play. They skimmed along, involved in a game of Tag. One girl moved herself to near a leaf, getting as close as it could. The leaf pressed against the surface tension of the water. Not by a lot, but enough that the boy who was It couldn’t speed up near her without slipping.

After watching the position of It be changed twice, she stepped onto the leaf to check on her feet. The oils there needed to stay clean and fresh, so she spent some time grooming. The others would understand. Most of them wouldn’t try tagging her like this.

As she wasn’t focused on the game, she spotted something odd in the distance. The light was quite dim now, with the sun fully past the horizon. It was a small red glow, kind of like an ember. But what would a fire be doing on the lake’s surface?

Then an invisible force took hold of her body and lifted her in the air. Shrieking, the Surskit flailed with her thin legs, trying to find some surface to grip. Her friends called her name and came over, but they didn’t know what was happening to her. She was scared enough that she went for the usual trick in throwing off enemies: making a sweet drop from the tip of her head.

Then she was dropped just as abruptly as she was picked up. However, she landed on her back and began sinking in the water. The Surskit struggled to get herself upright, but couldn’t get her feet back on the surface. Two of her friends pushed the leaf towards her while others tried to grab her. With their skinny legs, it was hard. But she managed to get a grip on the leaf to pull herself above the water.

“Oh gosh,” she said, gasping. “Thanks. Let’s get out of there.”

Her friends agreed, worried that whatever had grabbed her might do it again.

-+-

Once they were gone, the Golduck surfaced where they had been. The Surskit group had left several sweet drops behind. They were like honey, but of a different taste. Using the leaf, she skimmed the drops off the surface of the water. The little bugs made them to distract predators from chasing them. Maybe it was a little mean to scare them just for these meager drops. But they were a tasty delicacy, something her ill child would appreciate.

There was a soft hum in the air. Probably not a large Pokémon; the Golduck gathered up the last of the drops, then tied the leaf up tight to keep them inside. She could mix them in with something else, as they were strong enough to flavor things. Like some Leppa berries.

“There you are!” a voice boomed from overhead. “I am a Fury, the spirit of Vengeance! Bully, I will punish you for your torment of small Pokémon.”

The Golduck turned around and looked up. It was dark, but an enormous pair of red eyes glared down out her. Yelping, she clutched the leaf package close and dove under the water as the thing laughed at her. Briefly, her imagination filled in what an awful huge creature it must have been to have eyes like that.

But when she got back to her side of the lake and reemerged, the Fury creature was nowhere to be seen. She calmed down, realizing that it was probably one of the Masquerain, not some giant spirit of Vengeance as it claimed. Still, she needed to make sure things were all right with her son. Then she could go looking for Leppas to mix with the sweet drops.

She probably wouldn’t go hunting for more of the drops, though.

-+-

The Masquerain hovered over the water, watching as the Golduck emerged from the lake. For a moment, there was that little red glow as she moved a rock. So it was her, he thought. Gossip around the lake said that her son was ill. Maybe she was getting the sweet drops from him. Still, he didn’t like anyone to pick on the little Surskit. If he didn’t stand up for them, then many more Pokémon would try scaring them for sweet drops. Those were meant to be in case of danger, not for others to take advantage of.

Deciding to leave the Golduck mother alone for now, the Masquerain took off backwards, twisting his body around without swerving in flight. Other than moving to the side to avoid a rock, he went straight back home. There, he met with the little bugs he was watching for. “Did you get back at the bully?” one Surskit asked.

“Of course,” he told them. “It was a really mean nasty Pokémon, but I scared it good. You should never see it around here again.” Actually, the Golduck usually wasn’t that bad. He just didn’t want the young ones to know that one of their neighbors had scared them like that.

The Surskit kids cheered. “Thanks uncle,” one of them said.

“No problem,” he said. “Are you all right now?”

The girl who had been picked up nodded. “Yeah, but I think I’ll stay here for now.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said. “I’ll be flying around here to keep you all safe.”

“Hey, can you do that trick where you fly upside-down again?” one of the boys asked.

“Not now,” he said.

“Aw, why not?”

“It’s time for you kids to go to sleep; it’s dark.”

They whined for a bit, but eventually found spots to settle down and go to sleep.

…

Golduck Soul Silver entry: It appears by waterways at dusk. It may use telekinetic powers if its forehead glows mysteriously.

Sapphire entry: If Surskit senses danger, it secrets a thick, sugary syrup from the tip of its head. There are some Pokémon that love eating this syrup.

Ruby entry: Masquerain intimidates enemies with the eyelike patterns on its antennas. This Pokémon flaps its four wings to freely fly in any direction – even sideways and backwards – as if it were a helicopter.

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

I don't use "uber" Pokemon (because they're banned), I don't calculate stat values (the simulator does it for me), I don't use cheating devices (because I hardly ever play the actual game), I don't breed my way to perfection (because I use a simulator), and I do care about natures. I battle the most efficient way, so I can use my strategic skills to the fullest. I don't look down on others because of the way they play Pokemon, which non-competitive people seem to actually do more often. If you use this philosophy, copy & paste this into your signature. (Started by DittoDude.)

Loved the Golduck one.
Can I request Serperior and Tepig line, Emboar being the main character

Scientists will eventually stop flailing around with solar power and focus their efforts on harnessing the only truly unlimited source of energy on the planet: stupidity. I predict that in the future, scientists will learn how to convert stupidity into clean fuel.

Yikes, this one has taken me much too long! I've been working on it in bits and pieces for a week now. But it's finally done! And then I have another Fighting pair following right after. I may just skip out of order...

Also, request list is still long. I'll try to catch up on getting things done, but there's a lot else that needs to get done too.

They were there at the gym every day, Mike and Dan. They showed up around the same time, training themselves in their own ways. While they knew of each other and had talked some, they weren’t really friends. There wasn’t anything that connected them other than working out at the same place.

Being a Machop, Mike dabbled in all of the equipment: lifting weights, running on the treadmill, doing resistance workouts, all of it. He also took any introduction classes that came around, looking to build his strength in every way possible. He had tried nearly every martial arts style in the world, but hadn’t yet settled on one to master. Whenever newcomers came in, Mike would challenge them to a fight or show them how to use the machines in the equipment room. If there was a chance to show off, he would be there.

On the other hand, Dan the Dewott was focused on one training style alone. His whole regimen was geared towards making the most out of his two battle scalchops, yellow shells with razor sharp edges which had grown naturally at his hips. Due to all but the flat edge being sharp, they were dangerous to handle. A single slip could make a deep cut all across the user’s paw. Dan constantly practiced handling them, slicing with them, throwing them, and jabbing them at weak points. He sometimes did other training, but only if it could help him with his scalchops.

The gym was in a large town, where Fight type Pokémon were common, so there were always others to challenge to fights, or to chat with. Still, being regulars meant that their paths would cross at one point. And that point came about because of the girl.

She was a Monferno, and she was one of the loveliest Pokémon that either Mike or Dan had ever seen. The colors in her soft fur were bright and the flames of her tail fire trailed gracefully after her. Although she was a part Fight type, it seemed she hadn’t focused as much on athletic training as most of the gym regulars. She had apparently devoted that time and effort towards building her beauty, and that had worked out perfectly for her. One afternoon, she came in and began speaking with the gym’s owner.

Before long, everyone in the gym was wondering about her. What was her name, what did she like, what was she doing here? She seemed to know the owner quite well, given how the two of them laughed at points. But no one had seen her around here. Mike especially was interested in the girl. Maybe he should impress her and get her interested in him too.

Looking around, he saw that Dan was also glancing at the Monferno, interested in her but trying not to stare. Mike smirked to himself. Any time he’d seen the Dewott training, he thought the guy was being too serious. He never showed any signs of having fun, like yelling, laughing, or posing. Yet he kept on training. It was high time he got some teasing.

The Machop snuck up behind Dan. “So you like her, huh?”

Dan clenched on of his scalchops as he jumped around, but relaxed his grip on seeing who it was. Still, he scowled. “And why would you care if I did or not?” he asked quietly.

“Just cause.” He winked. “If you want to get her attention, you might show off some. Like by fighting someone, like me.”

“Is that why you’re talking to me?” he asked. He’d seen so much of Mike’s ‘help’ by boasting that he felt skeptical.

“Wanna find out?” He hopped back and punched the air between them. “You’re the only other regular around here that I haven’t fought. Come on, show me what you can really do.”

Dan wasn’t that interested in showing off, usually. But if it might get the Monferno’s attention, it was worth it to humor Mike. Besides, when dealing with Fight type Pokémon, it was often an insult to turn down a request for a battle. “Fine, you can try against me. But you’d better focus on the battle, and not the girl.”

With that settled, the two Pokémon went to the center of the gym, where an open space with mats was kept for battles. It was an informal match, so Mike only waited for a nod from the Dewott to know that he was ready. He then came at Dan with a high kick. Taking hold of the yellow shells, Dan caught the kick with one arm and thus blocked much of the damage; then he slashed at the Machop’s shoulders. The scalchop was sharp enough to cut through his tough gray skin. Mike knew he needed to watch for those weapons then.

He attempted to karate chop into Dan’s arm, to limit how much he could use both of his natural weapons. “I know exactly what you’re going to do,” Mike bluffed, smiling confidently. “You only ever study one style of fighting and you get stuck in that one style.”

Dan hopped out of the strike, but missed his own counter attack when Mike blocked it fully. “You study so many that you never master any of them.” He then turned his failed counter into grabbing the Machop’s arm and throwing him onto the mat.

By that point, several other Pokémon in the room had stopped to watch, including the owner and the Monferno. Someone even cheered the throw, which someone countered by booing. Good, the attention was good, but he needed to look good. Mike flipped around, kicked Dan, and got up in the same motion.

“Wanna bet?” he asked, grinning. “Besides, you’re not even a Fight Pokémon.” He started a punch that would lead into a pummeling, but Dan countered that surprisingly well. “And when you next evolve, your fighting style will be completely worthless to you. On the other hand, I’ll only get better because I’ll stay close to the same body form.”

Mike then made it look like he would punch, but he was planning on kicking instead. Then Dan surprised him by ramming his shoulder into him, knocking him off of the mats. “You talk too much,” Dan said, holding up both of his scalchops and making a slashing motion in the air. The message was pretty clear: he could completely knock Mike out if he so chose to then, but he would leave it at the ring-out.

“Nice move!” the Monferno called out amid the cheers from the rest. “Can I fight you next?”

“I don’t think he’d be the sort to hit a girl,” Mike said, knowing that she’d probably hate it if Dan agreed.

And the Dewott knew that too. “If you want to challenge me, you’re welcome to try,” he said, turning to her and bowing. “The name’s Dan.”

She came onto the mats and nodded. “Hi, I’m Mercia. Okay, I’ll show you what I can do!” She dropped into a low stance, with her tail held high. The flames there flared and were soon encircling Mercia. With that shielding her, it would be impossible to take her on in close combat without getting burned. She then rushed at Dan, ready to punch.

Even though being a Water type would protect him some from the flames, Dan dodged aside and threw one of his scalchops at her. It hit her with enough force to knock her right onto her face before returned straight back to the Dewott’s paw. He skillfully caught it without getting himself cut on its sharp edges.

It took her a moment to get back onto her feet. But Mercia was smiling. “Wow, you’re pretty powerful to hit that hard! Without using Water even. I’m still learning, though. Hey, want to go out for a shake?”

Mike felt rather annoyed that Dan had gotten the girl’s interest today. But it was just the first round, he thought to himself. There was still a chance that he could come out the winner, if he planned his next moves out carefully.

…

Machop Leaf Green entry: Loves to build its muscles. It trains in all styles of martial arts to become stronger.

Dewott Black entry: Strict training is how it learns its double-scalchop technique.

Monferno Platinum entry: It skillfully controls the intensity of the fire on its tail to keep its foes at an ideal distance.

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

YAAAAAAAY!!!! Finally, you updated! Wooo! So this was a nice one. I always liked Dewott. Knowing alot of different fighting styles is useful, but then you can never learn and advance in one of those fighting styles. You'd have alot different styles but they'd be at the basic level. You've got to pick.

His hands were too small to fully grip the log. Find the right balance point. And the log was taller than himself, making it even more awkward to wield. Get a good hold so that it would slip. But it was tradition and if he was to be accepted by his peers, he had to get this right. Jump and flip the log so that it came smashing down on the head of his target. He hit it an inch from the center, causing the scarecrow dummy to get knocked to the side.

The ground throbbed with the pounding of a concrete pillar, even larger than the log he was wielding. The tan mass of a Conkeldurr loomed over him, his black eyes as stern and unimpressed as ever. “Aim for the center,” he repeated in his rough deep voice.

As the scarecrow dummy sprang back into place, the Timburr felt his blood burn in anger. The master could at least acknowledge that he was hitting the target now. When he’d first joined this training, he had been clumsy enough to hit himself with his own weapon. And being the apprentice to such a famous fighter wasn’t what he thought it would be. All of the exercises were repetitions, performing the attacks over and over again until some spoken or unspoken condition had been met. Then it was on to the next repetition. The Timburr hadn’t even had a proper battle in all this time.

Maybe he needed to do something more to prove himself to the Conkeldurr. He looked to his master, a Pokémon that had a bulky torso, but such small legs that he used two immense concrete pillars to support himself with when walking. Seeing that almost caused the Timburr to wish that he wouldn’t evolve that far. It seemed like such an obvious weakness.

Weakness. Impulsively, he got hold on his log again, but this time he swung it horizontally, aiming to sweep his master’s legs. That would show him that even the most powerful weren’t invulnerable.

To the Timburr’s shock, the Conkeldurr let go of his pillars and hopped over the attack. The master then grabbed his weapons and turned them into a gray blur before pounding the ground on either side of the Timburr. While that attack hadn’t even hit him, the Timburr stumbled back onto the ground from the force of the impact.

The master snorted, then swung himself back with his pillars. “Focus on your lesson,” he said.

Feeling embarrassed at his rashness, the Timburr got back onto his feet and picked up his weapon again. He wasn’t ready to truly challenge his master yet. But someday, he would be ready, and he would win.

…

Timburr Black entry: It fights by swinging a piece of lumber around. It is close to evolving when it can handle the lumber without difficulty.

Conkeldurr White entry: They use concrete pillars as walking canes. They know moves that enable them to swing the pillars freely in battle.

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

Volcarona felt weary; it was hard to hold out her wings, but they felt so stiff that drawing them back wouldn’t be much better. With her energy waning, the fires she produced were losing brightness. It had been a long day, after a long day yesterday, and the day before that… it had been two months now, right? She wasn’t sure, but felt like it had been forever.

Yet, she hadn’t moved far from this spot the whole time. The rock under her feet had darkened from her heat, with small groves forming where she sat. She had kept her fire going, but had not used it for attacking. While that usually kept energy consumption down, she had been maintaining this fire for hours. At times like this, she wondered if it was worth keeping this up.

She looked up at the sky, which gave her reason enough to stay. It was raining ash dust, little dry white, gray, and black fragments falling from above. Above that, the ash clouds glowed with the sun’s light, but did not let it all the way through. It had been like that ever since the nearby volcano erupted explosively. She hadn’t minded it much herself, feeling home at the volcano, but all around her it had been panic and fear… and death.

That catastrophe had lasted only a few hours, but what followed showed no signs of letting up. The ashes stayed in the sky, slowly falling but never ceasing. Without sunlight, the plants and Grass Pokémon should have browned and died. But Volcarona’s fire emitted light just like the sun. Feeling sorry for those who couldn’t tolerate these conditions, she had settled on this rock, above a place where humans grew their crops.

Grass Pokémon who would have normally steered clear of her flocked to her side instead. A few times, other Pokémon had attacked this place, but they had all banded together so that she didn’t need to fight. All of the plants here had turned their leaves towards her, finding the energy to produce fruits, vegetables, and grains for the humans and other kinds of Pokémon to eat. Because she was here, the others could survive in this time of darkness.

Thankfully, the colors of the sky were shifting to red and orange. The sun past the clouds was setting and soon, she could let her fires go out and rest. As usual, a small group of humans came into the garden. One was dressed in long brown robes and a strange feather and bone headdress. A Petlil had told her that this man was a holy man to the humans. Every day, he would come here and speak near her. Volcarona didn’t understand the humans, but she liked the tone of his voice and the Petlil had said that it was a prayer of blessing and thanks. She was starting to let him touch her, which he would do with great respect. Before this, she wouldn’t have thought herself worthy of that kind of attention. But she was the focus of their hopes right now. For that, she would endure these long draining days.

And then a shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds and reached down to them.

…

Black entry: When volcanic ash darkened the atmosphere, it is said that Volcarona’s fire provided a replacement for the sun.

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

However, I did like the Volcarona one better than the Timburr/Conkeldurr story. The Volcarnoa One-Shot seemed to have more... depth than the other one. While the story of Timburr and Conkeldurr provided a look into a day-in-the-life, Volcarona's story showed some character development, plus I think that it fit the dex entry more.

Overall, some more wonderful work. Keep it up!

Hi, I'm part of the staff on Pokemon Showdown!, if you have any questions or need any help, VM or PM me.

Hooked on short stories now, eh? Well, it's nice to see you've updated. The Timburr/Conkledurr one was interesting, but there wasn't alot of depth. The Volcarona one was much better. You could see her change, more character. Very good.

My birthday, so I get to choose the Pokemon! Butterfree is one that I like and keep thinking of using, but never do. I was surprised to see that it wasn't covered here yet. Spinda is the same way for me in games, but at the point it comes, I'm either waiting on something that comes later or I've already grown attached to my team. And Mismagius... well that is the only pre-fifth gen Ghost that hasn't been covered yet. And the whole reason I bought Pearl was because I wanted to use Misdreavus and Mismagius. So three Pokemon that I rather like.

“Nectar, nectar, nectar,” the Butterfree sang as he flitted and glided along the air currents. His white wings were quite noticeable in the forest with its dark greens and browns, but he was able to fend for himself well enough.

Stopping at a flower patch, he landed and sniffed out the flowers that had nectar. Unfortunately, most of them were quite dry now, harvested by other Pokémon. The Butterfree took what he could find, but wasn’t satisfied. He would have to find another patch. The trouble was, there was one flower signal that was overpowering all else in this part of the forest. It promised the finest and most glorious nectar he had ever found, in great quantities too. Every time he passed through here, that scent taunted and teased him.

But he never went to its source. The flowers that produced it were in the witch’s garden. In a little cottage by a spring, there lived a Pokémon who was said to practice strange magic. If one angered her, then she gave that Pokémon a terrible curse that was difficult to get rid of. He had heard about her as a little Caterpie and made sure never to go near that cottage.

He wasn’t finding much nectar today, though. He checked other flower patches, but they were dry as well. To make it worse, the witch’s garden smelled particularly wonderful. Maybe she wasn’t there today. Did he want to risk that chance?

Clank, clank, ka-clank…. clankclankclankclankclank…

Hearing the strange rhythm of metal, the Butterfree looked up from the flowers to see what it was. An unfamiliar Pokémon was walking along the forest path. Despite the steel-quality of the sound, she was actually a Normal type, a Spinda. Short tan fur and pink splotches showed under ill-fitting steel armor, including a too-small helmet sitting lopsided over one ear, a too big chestplate that flopped around, and steel knee-high boots that were only snug on feet. Right next to the helmet, there was a brown jug perched on the Spinda’s head. Something sloshed inside.

Despite carrying some kind of liquid on her head, the Spinda walked in a bizarre fashion, leaning far to the right, then turning about , walking backwards a few quick paces, leaning back for half a minute, and finally turning back forward and wobbly lurching ahead. Yet during this clumsy dance, she kept the jug upright and did not lose a drop. That didn’t make any sense to the Butterfree. If he were carrying something delicate and spillable around, he would fly slowly, as carefully as he could.

“Say there,” the Spinda said, saluting and still keeping that jug on her head, “Good afternoon, dear citizen! How are conditions in the forest today?”

The Butterfree watched in fascination as the Spinda managed to totter while standing in place. “Er, um, well, it’s okay for the most part. All the flowers are dry, though. How are you keeping that on your head?”

“Good balance and posture,” she said, holding her short arms out to wobble less. “Essential for the graceful knight. Sir, if the flowers here are dry, you may wish to try the ones in the witch’s garden.”

He shivered. “But she’s a witch! She’ll put a nasty curse on me.”

The Spinda knight shook her head (still not losing a drop). “I wouldn’t worry about that, now. She strikes me as a nice lady. Spooky, yes, but rumors grow wilder than the truth. Well, carry on, fine citizen! I have a delivery to make.” She then clanked and tottered on down the path.

After watching her disappear, the Butterfree was left to wonder who would employ a knight who walked as strangely as that. And about the witch and her garden. Was it just a rumor that she was nasty and vengeful? Or had she fooled the knight and other city folk.

Then a thought came to him. The Spinda was obviously a city Pokémon, as evidenced by her manufactured though ill-fitted armor. If she had met the witch, then the witch had to leave her cottage from time to time. Was this a time when she would be away? He might be able to sneak into the garden and get at that wonderful nectar after all.

It was worth a try, and he was hungry. The Butterfree left the dry patch of flowers and finally followed the overpowering scent of the witch’s garden. After a couple of minutes of flying through the trees, he spotted the cottage. It looked small and cozy, with its round windows and pastel colors. But the garden… oh, it was as magnificent as it smelled. The flowers were large and colorful; the herbs were strong and lush. There were honeysuckles, dozens of types of roses, fruit trees, lavender, cilantro, basil, oregano, rosemary, and more. So much choice; what should he try?

The Butterfree went to the honeysuckle; the vines were growing over the fence at the edge of the garden, so if he needed to escape, he could do so quickly. He landed on the fence and took a sip out of one of the orange flowers. And loved it. The nectar was sweet, clean, and thick, and the flower was full of it. If he ate until he was bursting, he probably wouldn’t even be done with this vine! And there were so many others to try. He wondered briefly why he hadn’t come here before.

“Excuse me,” a female’s voice said near him. Just behind him, there was the witch, a Mismagius. Her sparkling hat looked as real as himself, but her trailing purple cloak blurred into the air. In the shadows of her face, her red eyes glowed.

“AAAAAAAAHHHH!” the Butterfree screamed, launching himself off the fence hard enough that it shook. He flew frantically away from her, only to realize that he was flying right for her cottage. Which way did he go?

“Wait a sec,” the Mismagius said, floating after him.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The witch Pokémon disappeared and reappeared in his path. “Now calm down, please!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

Seeing as he couldn’t figure out which way to fly, she enclosed him in a small spherical energy field. “And it might help to breathe.”

“AAAaaaaahhhhhic…” he collapsed and ended up all sprawled out on the bottom of the sphere. Since Bug types breathed through pores all over their bodies, enclosing him in this sphere was like giving a hyperventilating mammalian Pokémon a paper bag. “Hic.”

“That’s better,” the Mismagius said, floating over to him. “Don’t want you hurting yourself in that kind of a panic. What are you doing here, Butterfree?” She looked at him, with her hat tilted slightly. “Don’t worry; I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Are you going to turn me into a Lotad?” he asked, now that his body had calmed down.

She chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, no. I just want to know.”

Shivering nervously, the Butterfree scrunched up. “Um, I was hungry and looking for nectar, but lots of the flowers around here were dry. I didn’t really trespass; I was just on the fence.”

Clanking sounds started up in the background. The Mismagius looked back into the woods, then at him. “That’s fine. I don’t mind your kin coming here to help pollinate the plants. It’s a lot easier for you than for me.”

“Um, what do you mean?” he asked, relaxing a bit. She did seem nice. “I just wanted to drink nectar, not, uh, pol-lin-ate. What’s that?”

“Don’t let it bother you,” she said, drifting away from him to her gate. “Hello, lady knight.”

Stumbling through the open gate, the armored Spinda came in. “Good day to you,” she said, saluting and nearly knocking herself over. “I’ve brought your delivery.”

The witch nodded. “Excellent; you can set it down by the door.”

“Right-o.” The Spinda tottered along the path, eventually facing the Butterfree in the orange sphere. “Hello, I think I’ve seen you before.”

Well if the knight was here, he’d be safe. The Butterfree relaxed then. “We did, a little while ago. Is she going to turn me into a Lotad?”

She laughed as she carried on down the path. “What, her? No. She could if she put her mind to it, but then you’d have to really anger her. She’s got the patience of a saint, though. And she’s really well connected to the royal family, another proof of her good soul.” The Spinda came to the porch and slipped the jug off her head and onto the steps.

But then the Mismagius started chanting in strange words, coming back over to the sphere. The Butterfree scrunched up again. Maybe she wouldn’t turn him into a Lotad, but supposedly, she could turn him back into a Caterpie. That would be horrible. But then the sphere vanished, forcing him to beat his wings rapidly to stay in the air.

The witch’s red necklace glowed. “There, that’s done,” she said.

Looking over himself, he seemed to still be a Butterfree. “Um, what did you do?”

“I gave you a blessing to find happiness today,” the Mismagius said. “You may return to my garden any time, you and any other wild Pokémon that may be interested.”

A blessing to find happiness? That was completely not what he had heard when he was younger. But he felt thrilled already, since he could come back to this delicious garden any time he wanted. “Oh wow, thank you! You’re much nicer than I thought. Bye!” He flew off into the forest, wondering who he should tell.